Chloe's Guardian (The Nephilim Redemption Series Book 1) (35 page)

BOOK: Chloe's Guardian (The Nephilim Redemption Series Book 1)
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“It has been awhile. And it was only a rumor.”

“I think we may be desperate enough to chase a rumor about now,” Horatius said.

“You dinna seem strong enough to chase anything, so I am hesitant to say.”

“Please, sir,
say
! We need to know.”

Hugh set down his bowl, placed his palms on his thighs and leaned in. “There is a man. People say he sells goat cheese. And they say he worships Allah, sacrificing a goat every year to commemorate one of his holy days.”

“We saw a goat man,” Billy said enthusiastically, jumping back and forth between Horatius and Hugh. “We saw him!”

“It was only a rumor. And most likely not a fresh one.”

“We
saw
the goat man. I was sure he was a Saracen as soon as I saw him,” Billy said, looking at Horatius hopefully. “Did you not think that?”

“Your imagination is getting the better of you. We saw several goat herders. None were foreigners.”

Billy spun back to Hugh as though he would confirm what he wanted. “I
did
see him. There was even blood on his sleeves, I am certain. You believe me, aye?”

“Aye, lad,” Hugh said, ruffling Billy’s hair. “I believe you think you saw him.”

“Whether or not that is who we saw, at least we know there is someone near who might help,” Horatius said. “We will go to the market tomorrow. How many old Arabs selling goat cheese can there be in one small medieval town?”

CHAPTER
45

 

Panahasi towered above the shriveled old man who sat across from him on the floor of the tent. Hussein twitched and blinked repeatedly under Panahasi’s scrutiny. He was much more nervous than Panahasi would want, but he had the reputation to find the sorceress, which was all that was needed.

“I need to communicate with the world beyond, but I need a witch skilled in the arts. I cannot abide an amateur. Too much is at risk. The reward will be generous.” Panahasi spoke in Gaelic because Hussein had been too long away from his homeland to speak Arabic fluently.

Hussein’s shoulders twitched and he blinked hard twice. “How much? I…I...I mean, I just wonder how skilled of a witch shall I afford you?” He blinked his watery eyes again. “I wish to find the best your coin can—”

Panahasi was squeezing Hussein’s throat before thinking. But he did not let go, his fingers digging into the sagging flesh, knowing a little fear should help secure his terms. “Just get me the best.” When he released the soft neck, Hussein sucked in a raspy breath, twitching and jerking worse than before.

Panahasi threw a limp sack of coins into his lap. Around wheezes and coughs, Hussein opened the sack and looked inside. “My wife—” He coughed and twitched several more times. “She is skilled. She will do what you need. But I am not sure this is enough.” He blinked his eyes tightly, squeezing water of out the corners.

An audacious little fool.
Panahasi expected he would capitulate easily after the assault.

“It is enough. For now. I will give more if I am satisfied. How do I know your wife is truly what I need? That you are not trying to deceive me?”

“No, no, no,” he said in a rush. “She is the best. I did not realize at first you meant to secure the best is all.” He twitched while waiting for Panahasi to speak.

“If you lie, you will die.”

“I would never lie to you.”

Panahasi narrowed his eyes at him and let the glare linger to drive home the point he meant what he said.

“I need her to do a summoning,” Panahasi finally said.

“My wife is very adept at such arts.”

“I must arrange to deliver a soul to the Prince of darkness. The spirit she summons to deliver the soul cannot know I am the one asking. There is a certain demon who cannot know of my arrangement or location.”

“You ask a risky contact.”

“Are you saying she cannot do what I desire?”

“No. No, no. It is just…if anything goes awry, it will cost more.”

Panahasi sat on his hands to keep from grabbing the shriveled man’s throat again. He had no time to find another sorceress. He would have to make this work. And it wouldn’t work if he killed the man. “It will be tonight. She will summon an Escort. She
must
make certain none other knows. My location will remain concealed to any others in the spiritual realm.”

“Will the principal be willing? Without consent the consequences would be too great. She will not provide the summons without cooperation.”

“Of course. It is all arranged. I will meet your wife by the bridge on Low Woods at midnight. We will find privacy in the forest.”

“I will instruct her in all you have said. I will send her to the bridge to meet you. Do not fear. You will be well pleased with her.”

Panahasi got up and swept out of the tent, uninterested in spending any more time with the loathsome, greedy merchant.

For now, he would find sleep. Less than he wanted. The ride after he was released had consumed much of the night. It had taken longer than he had time to spare to find the old man who brokered supernatural transactions. But now his plan was secure. He would have an Escort take him and the girls directly to the Prince, and Satarel would know nothing of his plot or his location. He would be certain of that. He would go over Satarel’s head directly to the one who would accept his offering.
Tonight, I will regain my power and status.

CHAPTER
46

 

The bed curtains whipped back and sunshine exploded into the dark, warm bed cove. Chloe moaned. Kaitlyn squinted and cupped her hands around her eyes.

“Wake, for the morn is new,” Agnes said with a happy grin. “I let you sleep overlong. We have purchases to make. First, we will break our fast and then it is off to the market.”

Sluggishly, Chloe changed from the nightgown Agnes had provided to the new borrowed dress, prodded on the whole time by Agnes. Chloe and Kaitlyn helped each other tie the laces on the sleeves and bodices. Chloe kept thinking about Pan coming and getting her home to save her family, but Agnes wouldn’t let her dawdle. She’d fallen fast into a deep sleep the previous night and dreamed of going home, but she hadn’t had time to think about it while awake. After the message had come from Pan, everyone insisted she and Kaitlyn play dance music, keeping them performing until very late.

With an excess of enthusiasm, Agnes herded them to the great hall. All the tables were covered with platters or bowls or pots of food. Oat porridge, baked pastries, grilled eel—their smells swirled together into a medley of aromas. Chloe had to make herself eat, she was so distracted by the idea Pan would take them home that evening. She drank a hot spiced drink without paying attention and it burned her throat on the way down. After eating three quick swallows of oatmeal and one tiny bite of a pastry, Agnes announced, “It is time to go into town, then.”

Distracted, Chloe followed Agnes and Kaitlyn outside. They walked onto a giant green yard with a round stone cistern in its center. Imagined images of her family trapped in the burning house kept jumping into her thoughts, blocking out the buildings in front of her.

“Come on, Chloe,” Kaitlyn said, taking her hand and leading her forward.

A group of servants and guards joined the three of them. Together, they walked toward the exit across the great expanse of grass on which the many buildings of the fortress stood.

“Do you recognize where we are?” Kaitlyn whispered to Chloe.

Chloe shook off a picture of Benji sleeping in his toddler bed with flames licking up the headboard. “What?”

“We’ve been here before. Or I should say we’ve been here ‘after,’ not before,” Kaitlyn said.

The surroundings broke through her awful visions.

“See that? Picture it without the roof,” Kaitlyn said. “And that with no walls, doors, or windows.”

The ruins as she'd seen them merged in her mind with the structures as they now stood.

“And that’s where you were when you saw Horace the first time,” Kaitlyn said, clearly gleeful about being back. “So we had been—” she turned a circle to get her bearings, and she pointed at the massive building they’d just passed, “—in
there
when you started calling us. I
love
seeing this in living color! Everything is breathing and moving. And the costumes!”

Agnes waited for them up near the exit. “Are you coming?”

“Just looking around,” Chloe said, picking up her pace.

“This is Dunnottar! Your castle is fantastic,” Kaitlyn said. “I love it here.”

“Aye, it shall be here later, but market day will not last forever. Let us go.” She turned and led them on with a happy bounce in her step.

“You’re right,” Kaitlyn yelled to her. “It
will
be here later. Much later.”

 

***

 

At Market Square, the three stepped down from the wagon and joined the throng of people shopping among the many carts and stalls set up in rows across the big grassy park. Agnes found a cloth merchant and had him display several bolts for Chloe and Kaitlyn. When they didn’t choose fabric Agnes liked, she took over and bartered for better, higher quality cloth and for the trims and ribbons that would go with them.

Chloe and Kaitlyn walked around while Agnes completed the transaction. Market Square was like the Renaissance fair. Only it smelled a lot stronger. Somehow the manure, bodies, and food were more pungent here. Several merchants had fires blazing with different pieces of animals sizzling over the flames. Kaitlyn gagged when the breeze shifted and the smoke from a nearby roasting pig drifted into their faces.

Chloe hurried Kaitlyn away to get her out of the smoke. They found a section of the square with no animals cooking. A stall with necklaces and bracelets hanging from pegs on a cart caught Kaitlyn’s eye. She pulled Chloe over and tried on a bracelet and held it out for Chloe to admire. It was hammered yellow metal with small embedded colored beads.

“Isn’t it pretty? But my hands aren’t. Look at my cuticles. They’re a mess.”

“Tomorrow I’ll buy you a manicure,” Chloe said. “We’re going home.” The nerves in Chloe’s stomach flared. She didn’t know if she could wait that long.

“I have just what you need, m’lady.” A woman came from a stall next to the bracelet cart. “I shall show you.” She took Kaitlyn’s hand, pulled her to her own stall, and started massaging a yellow cream into her skin.

“Ooh, that feels so good,” Kaitlyn said. “Cello, come here. You have to try this. She's giving free samples just like that store in the mall.” She closed her eyes and relinquished her whole arm to the woman.

“Dinna yeh walk away with m’ armlet,” said a scowling woman from the bracelet cart to the woman with cream who took Kaitlyn.

The woman kept rubbing Kaitlyn’s arm but as she did, she slipped the bracelet off, and tossed it at the other woman.

“Nasiha, she was at
my
cart, not yers.”

“Keep to yourself, Evina. You heard yourself she needed cream for her skin. Do not push me.”

“Wot? Will yeh curse me again?”

The one with the cream kept a hold of Kaitlyn, though Kaitlyn wasn’t relaxing any more. Their sharp tongues had opened her eyes.

The one called Nasiha said, “Aye, and it might be worse.”

“Ha! I have an amulet. Yeh canna cause me harm this time.”

“Your amulet is worthless. What are a few herbs and feathers in a leather pouch against me?” Her eyes were slits, but she didn’t let go of Kaitlyn’s hand.

The one called Evina became nervous and clutched at something hanging around her neck beneath her bodice. It seemed Nasiha had named her good luck charm.

“I think that’s good now,” Kaitlyn said. “Thank you.”

Nasiha changed her expression to a soft, caring smile. “Oh no, dear one. Your other hand needs the same care.” She secured Kaitlyn’s other hand before she released the first. She dipped into a crock on her cart for more cream and kneaded a fresh dollop into Kaitlyn’s other hand.

“We should go.” Chloe looked around for Agnes, hoping she would come soon and help them get away.

Nasiha turned her charming face to Chloe, but an edge in her voice told Chloe who was in charge. “I am not done. And after this lady, I will do your hands.”

Chloe instinctively moved her hands behind her back and locked them together.

Having pulled her good luck charm from her shirt, Evina held it in her hand now. “I saw that tall Saracen coming from yur tent. I ken yeh plan something evil again. I heard all the plans through yur tent wall.”

“Tall Saracen?” Chloe said, her nerves coiling into high alert.

Evina whipped around to face Chloe, apparently pleased to find someone interested in what she had to say. “They summon devils and talk to spirits. They sacrifice and eat children.” She pointed a fat finger at Nasiha while her other hand worried the leather pouch around her neck. “She is evil. They both are, her and
Hhaw
—” A rush of air exploded from her throat as though she’d been punched in the gut. Her eyes bulged wide and she bent in the middle like a pain was cutting her in half.

“She must have had bad meat,” Nasiha said. “Come away, dear. Let me show you my balm for your skin. It comes from sweet goat’s milk.” She acted as though nothing had happened.

Evina stumbled beneath the canopy behind her bangle cart and collapsed onto a short stool while her husband yammered at her in what sounded like Gaelic, waving his arms and scolding her. Chloe watched them, but when he saw her, he yanked down a canvas flap to hide them from her view.

Chloe turned back to Kaitlyn, where she’d been pulled to the other side of the lady’s stall.

“Pay her no attention,” Nasiha said. “She is always like that. She is sick in the head.”

“There you are,” Agnes said, walking up behind them. “Where were you off to? Ah, the goat balm. It does miracles. I need more. I will take a portion today,” she told Nasiha. “You should try it, Chloe. It is glorious.”

Chloe hardly listened. Her skin tingled. She tried to process what she’d heard. Had the woman been about to say “Horace”? Was Horace planning evil things with this woman, this nefarious woman who obviously would do anything to get what she wanted? Would Horace, who she’d put all her hope in, really be wicked and horrible, and abandon her in a medieval century while her family died in the future? What else could it be? Was there any possibility that Horace wasn’t her worst nightmare? Was what Pan said trustworthy? Was
he
any better than Horace? Was
he
the tall Saracen? Who could she believe?
But no, she hadn’t started to say Pan. She clearly started to say Horace.

Oh, she needed tonight to come as soon as possible. If Pan came and took them back, she’d know, and she could get to Benji and save him. And her whole family—her family who Horace had left to die in their burning house.

“I need to go back!” Chloe said. They all looked at her, startled by her outburst.

“Are you ill?” Agnes said. “You do not look well.”

“What’s wrong, Cello?” Kaitlyn finally extricated her hand from the woman and grabbed Chloe’s hand in her own.

“Buy my wonderful milk. It will settle a troubled stomach,” the woman called after them, but Chloe had already left, pulling Kaitlyn back to where they’d left the wagon.

BOOK: Chloe's Guardian (The Nephilim Redemption Series Book 1)
11.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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